


Glue

by wedjateye



Series: Nascent [5]
Category: Firefly
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-08
Updated: 2010-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-10 00:23:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wedjateye/pseuds/wedjateye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fifth and final part of the Nascent series. Resolutions abound. May cause squeamishness if you are overly bothered by the effects of food poisoning. Beta thanks to Kispexi2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glue

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
|   
---|---  
  
 

  
Goushi - crap  
Shen me - what?  
Kuangren - lunatic  
Shia - affirmative  
Meiyong de houzi - useless monkey  
Tian a -  heaven

 

 

Glue

 

  
Despite his exhaustion, Simon has no hope of returning to sleep after Mal's precipitous departure.  
Tangled thoughts and images twist painfully through his brain, mangling any chance of calm. He gets  
up and returns to the one place where he can usually retain a sense of purpose - time to check on  
Kaylee in any case.

Both River and Kaylee are sound asleep. Kaylee looking more comfortable now; sprawled on her back,  
breathing easily, hands no longer clutching her abdomen. Silver tracks of half dried tears mar River's  
cheeks. Simon feels the ache inside him spike sharply at the misery he recognises in River's  
expression. Gently he disentangles her hands from Kaylee's sheets and carries her back to her own bed,  
drying her face and tucking her in securely without her stirring.

Time drags. The slow drip-drip-drip of rehydrating fluid seems to increase in volume in the quiet room  
until Simon can think of nothing else. He flees to the kitchen, searching for caffeine and solitude,   
pausing briefly when he realises it is not deserted.

Inara is scrubbing hard at the bench top, forehead furrowed in concentration. She jumps at Simon's  
subdued greeting. He sees that her fingers are blotched with purple.

"The berries," she explains, "they don't last once they've been washed. Their skins are so fragile."

The container of forgotten hodgeberries is sitting in the sink, dark liquid seeping from the mushy  
remains of the fruit.

"Why did you keep them?" Simon asks.

"Oh," Inara flushes slightly, "I thought Kaylee might be upset if I didn't." She stares down at the  
bench, winding the cloth into a rope. "This is never going to come out."

"I'll tell Kaylee," Simon offers, as kindly as he can manage.

"Thank you."

Inara smiles hesitantly at Simon then stiffens as she catches sight of the bruise on his neck. Her cheeks  
redden further as she looks at the ground for a long moment before leaving silently. Simon sighs and  
watches the discarded fruit whoosh away along the disposal tube.

 

~

 

Kaylee wakes groggily when Simon checks her temperature again.

"Feeling any better?" Simon asks gently.

"No," Kaylee bites her lip guiltily, "I made River cry. She wouldn't stop. Just told me to go back to  
sleep." Tears well in Kaylee's eyes as she confesses, "an' I didn't mean to but I must've, cause she's  
not here."

"Why was she crying?" Simon asks, smoothing Kaylee's hair back.

Kaylee scrunches her face uncertainly. "She said 'your heart is flying too' but I don't know what she  
meant…"

"It's okay Kaylee," Simon soothes, "everything will be alright. River's unsettled with you being sick  
and… things changing. I put her to bed. Everything will be fine once we've all had some more sleep."  
_Please let that be true._

Kaylee sniffles some more but allows Simon to lull her back to sleep with light, comforting words that  
he doesn't really believe. Inara's impending departure has rocked the boat badly. Simon doesn't get too  
long to brood though, before Zoe arrives.

"Doc? I've got another one for you." Distaste wrinkles Zoe's nose.

"Another what?" Simon asks, already reaching for his medical kit.

"Vomiter," Zoe elaborates flatly.

 

~

 

The smell emanating from Jayne's bunk hits like a physical wall, keeping Zoe and Wash at bay.

"Might want a gas mask before you go down there Simon," Wash gasps out between his fingers, hands  
clamped over a pale face.

"It's ok," Simon replies, "any good doctor knows how to suppress the sense of smell." But despite his  
brave words he is grateful his stomach is empty when it heaves in protest as the stench intensifies when  
he descends the ladder. Stale alcohol and vomit. Copious stale alcohol and vomit.

"Just how much did you drink Jayne?" Simon wonders, not expecting any reply from the clearly  
unconscious mercenary prostrate on the bunk. Jayne is still breathing normally but his skin is cool and  
his pulse racing. Dehydration; probably a dose of whatever felled Kaylee, kicked into hard burn by the  
alcohol.

Simon pops his head up above floor level. "We're going to have to get him to the infirmary," he  
informs Zoe and a gently swaying Wash.

"If you insist." Zoe starts forward.

"Umm, I don't think I can… not feeling so good," Wash demurrs.

Zoe gives him an exasperated look, prompting Wash to take a reluctant step forward, something he  
clearly regrets almost instantly.

"Oh, oh," Wash manages before he spins away, landing awkwardly on his knees and launching his  
breakfast against the wall.

"Oh honey." Zoe hurries to his side, rubbing his back apologetically.

"Told you it wasn't just too much stew," Wash mumbles reproachfully.

 

~

 

They manage to get Wash to the infirmary without further incident and Simon converts the bench-top  
into the infirmary's second bed for him, before dosing him with the mixture that was successful with  
Kaylee.

"We're going to need more help with Jayne, why don't you get the Captain and Book while I move  
Kaylee to make room for him?" Simon asks.

Zoe frowns. "Was going to let the Captain sleep it off a bit longer." She looks at Simon and shrugs.  
"Cargo's coming soon and we're pretty short of hands now. Guess he'll just have to suffer." She smiles  
wickedly. "Might make him think twice next time."

"Maybe," Simon grunts neutrally.

 

~

 

Kaylee is unsteady on her feet, nearly collecting the door frame despite Simon's assistance, so he  
swings her up into his arms and carries her to his own bed. There is no time to make up the spare  
passenger dorm and he hardly ever sleeps here anyway - the sheets have barely been used.

"Funny how wishes comin' true ain't never what you'd think." Kaylee smiles sadly up at him. Simon's  
lips twitch ruefully and he leans to kiss her forehead affectionately.

"I'll leave the door open. River's just across the hall - I'm sure she'll wake up in a better frame of  
mind, so just call out if you need anything before I can get back to check on you."

Kaylee nods. "I'll be fine; you were right - it is better after some sleep. I'm out of the infirmary at  
least." This time her smile lights her whole face.

 

~

 

Hauling Jayne up the ladder from his bunk is an impossible nightmare, until Simon finally has the  
bright idea of strapping him into the harness they usually use to dangle him from Serenity's belly. With  
the aid of a few ropes, they finally manhandle him into the corridor, where Simon isn't entirely certain  
that Zoe and Mal don't deliberately let him end up lying face down. By that stage Simon is preoccupied  
with just how many hernia repairs he is going to have to do in the coming months, so he doesn't  
complain. The fact that they all slipped around in foul smelling puddles of ….

Don't think about it, Simon sharply orders himself mentally. He's just glad that no-one else has  
succumbed. Mal in particular seems to have only precarious control over his stomach. He looks like  
goushi and his head has got to be close to exploding. But when Simon asked if he was up to this, he  
gritted his teeth and nodded. Simon has tried hard to concentrate on his patient and not the green-tinged  
pallor of his lover.

From there they roll Jayne onto a stretcher and each heft a corner, Book and Zoe going first, meaning  
they get the heavier burden as they descend the stairs. Mal and Simon end up jostling shoulders  
together frequently but Mal doesn't make eye contact once. After a while, Simon focuses on Book  
instead. After all, he isn't a young man any more, the strain must be getting to him.

"I guess that'll have to do as a work-out today." Book sounds regretful as they finally deposit Jayne on  
the med-bed.

"Shen me?" Simon asks.

"Looks as if Jayne won't be spotting me for a while," Book clarifies.

"Never fear preacher," Zoe purrs, "there's a whole 'verse of work-out about to roll up at our door-step  
any minute now."

Simon thinks he must be imagining the answering glint in Book's eye.

"You get well now honey," Zoe murmurs softly, kissing an oblivious Wash's forehead. She straightens  
and lifts one eyebrow at Mal who is leaning against the counter, looking as if he should be in one of the  
beds. Mal jerks his head slightly in acknowledgment, then winces, closing his eyes, his pallor  
increasing. Simon takes a breath but doesn't get to speak before Mal snaps his eyes open, glares  
belligerantly at no-one in particular and stalks from the room, Zoe and Book following.

Simon sighs and returns his attention to the problem at hand. A third of the crew incapacitated. He has  
to figure out what is causing this and fast.

 

~

 

Wash wakes suddenly after a couple of hours, groaning painfully. Simon is quickly by his side.

"Where does it hurt?" he asks, concerned - Kaylee hasn't had much discomfort after her first vomiting  
episode.

"The port thrust from the sound of it," Wash replies in an agonised voice. He struggles to sit up. "I  
gotta get up there before that kuangren rips her apart."

"Wash! You aren't going anywhere," Simon asserts, restraining him, "you're sedated and unwell,  
you're in no condition to fly." Though Simon has to admit, Serenity's lift-off noises are far from  
smooth.

Beads of sweat break out on Wash's forehead. "Do you want to die?"  He looks perfectly serious.

"Stay here," Simon orders, striding to the comm. "Zoe? Are you on the bridge with the Captain?"

"Shia," Zoe responds promptly.

"Wash has some concerns about how our engines are sounding from here."

Simon keeps a quelling gaze on Wash through the pause that follows. He is still propped on his elbows,  
listing to one side, and Simon is ready to leap if he attempts to stand. A concussion is the last thing he  
needs.

"Tell our pilot that everything is under control," Zoe says smoothly. "Tell my husband that I'll  
personally tie him to the bed if he tries to get up before you tell him he can."

Wash groans.

"And not in a good way,"  Zoe adds, the edge to her voice audible over the com's crackle.

Ten minutes later Serenity has broken atmo and Wash's pulse and blood pressure gradually return to  
normal. After a while he falls asleep while mumbling descriptions of Mal's ancestors in highly  
colourful Chinese.

 

~

 

Simon straightens up from his cortex research. He has identified the possible causes. Just has to wait  
for the assays to finish running. He rubs at the muscles in his neck, absent mindedly watching Zoe  
combing her fingers through Wash's hair.

"Why don't you take a break?" Zoe suggests. "Get yourself some food, since that sister of yours seems  
to think only Kaylee needs tending to."

Simon laughs. Kaylee has been feeling much better and even expressed tentative hunger. River has  
since ferried a steady stream of treats to her, first bringing each via the infirmary for Simon's approval.  
Simon was bemused at how much River has managed to stash away in Serenity's nooks and crannys.

"I'll hold down the fort here," Zoe smiles conspiratorially. "Everybody's got to eat some time."

 

~

 

Mal is standing in the middle of the bridge, staring out at the Black. He doesn't react when Simon  
clears his throat or calls his name, finally spinning around when Simon says, "Captain?".

"Doctor," Mal acknowledges in a polite tone that Simon thinks doesn't suit him at all. He looks  
haggard and his almost rigid posture speaks of the effort involved in combatting fatigue.

Simon feels frozen in uncertainty. He wants to touch Mal, to put his arms around him and feel his solid  
presence warm against his body.

"Something to report?" Mal asks crisply.

Simon finds himself delivering a calm, professional update on his patients' medical condition, as the  
Captain's outline blurs, until Simon's vision is filled with the malevolent glare of the stars.

Finished, he finds that Mal has turned away again in a silent dismissal. Simon struggles for a long  
moment, but finally decides that Mal owes him better than this.

"Mal?"

Mal answers quickly, as if he were waiting.

"Not now Simon. Right now I need some clear space."

 

~

 

Simon tries to settle himself with deep breaths. He can't go back like this. He doesn't want to face Zoe.

A peal of laughter drifts along the corridor from the dining room. Inara.

Simon groans; the infirmary suddenly a distant haven. He can't stand trapped here forever. Then he  
realizes. Jayne's bunk is empty. And still foul. A health hazard most likely.

Numb as he is, Simon still gags when he pushes open the door. Cleaning up here seems somehow  
_appropriate_ just now.

 

~

 

"'Bout ruttin' time Doc!" Jayne greets Simon impatiently.  "Would you call off your deputy and let me  
get out of here already? 'M hungry."

Zoe rolls her eyes at Simon before turning back to Wash who is smilling muzzily up at her.

"He's all yours now Simon." She sounds relieved.

Jayne grumbles about not needin' coddlin' while Simon checks him over.

"Not even hung over, can't have bin too sick," Jayne asserts.

"Wait till you smell your bunk," Wash disagrees, grimacing as he changes colour at the thought.

"Actually…" Simon begins, distracted by the assay results.

"What?" Jayne snaps. "Don't have all gorram day."

Simon blinks at him. "Actually, you had almost double a lethal dose of alcohol in your system. You're  
lucky to be alive Jayne."

"Pull the other one Doc, ain't buyin' that when my head ain't thumpin'."

"That would be because of the enzyme infusion and rehydration," Simon responds calmly, removing  
the intravenous line from Jayne's arm. "Next time drink some water as well - it might save your life."

"Thought you said the water was what got lil Kaylee sick," Jayne snorts. "Make up your mind Doc."

It isn't worth arguing. Simon feels too drained. "You can go Jayne."

"Hey!" Wash protests as Jayne departs. "Why is that meiyong de houzi better when I still feel like  
goushi?"

"Because alcohol poisoning is easier to treat than _Enterococcus walker_," Simon replies wearily. At  
least in some cases.

"Enterowhatus?" The word stumbles out of Wash's screwed up mouth.

"The bug you and Kaylee have. Jayne just drank too much."

"We hauled his ass up here because he was sozzled?" Zoe asks, disgusted. "Shoulda left him to drown  
in it."

 

~

 

By evening Simon has released Wash into the tender care of his wife, smiling to himself as he wonders  
how long her patience will last. Wash is taking full advantage of his invalid status.

"Don't worry Zoe, we'll have to land in a day or so. I'm sure his recovery will miraculously be  
complete by then."

The look Zoe shoots him over Wash's arm, slung over her shoulder, suggests that that will not be  
anywhere near soon enough.

Simon thinks of sendng Kaylee back to her bunk also. She has kept down dinner and spent several  
hours happily chatting with River. Now they are curled up cosily - in Simon's bed, heads close together  
on the pillow, a lock of Kaylee's hair looped around one of River's hands. Simon stands in the  
doorway, debating with himself. They look so innocent and peaceful.

"Already bolted," River mumbles. Simon thinks she is talking in her sleep until she opens one eye.  
"Have to share, Simon. Have to choose."

"Sleep well mei-mei." Simon crosses to the bed and kisses both River and Kaylee on the forehead.  
Kaylee makes a soft, contented noise and wriggles a little closer to River.

 

~

 

If Simon had a choice, he certainly wouldn't have made up the spare passenger dorm to lie here  
pondering how elusive sleep can be. He wouldn't be replaying River's words, amplified in the empty  
darkness, until they sound like a portent of doom. Simon knows he doesn't want to share Mal with  
anyone. Trouble is, Simon is no longer sure if he has a choice in the matter at all.

 

~

 

Simon wakes groggily to find it is now mid-morning. He has slept through Serenity's landing and the  
unloading of cargo. The resolve he finally found, after hours of slow mental torture, to just go to Mal  
and _force_ him to talk, now has to survive the inconvenience of Mal being off ship.

He keeps as busy as he can, occupying his brain with making up a new batch of inoculations for the  
crew, to prevent  further gastrointestinal illnesses. He loses track of time, stopping only to scoff down  
the lunch that Kaylee brought him, until the tremor of lift-off lets him know everyone must be back on  
board.

Time for action. Simon strides decisively into the cargo bay. Mal isn't going to know what hit him.  
Simon will bodily drag him down to his bunk and sit on him if he has to. In fact, that sounds kind of  
appealing …

Simon's smile falters, his limbs still as he takes in the tableau overhead on the catwalk. Inara has one  
graceful hand outstretched to rest on Mal's upper arm, her vibrant smile visible even from this distance.  
Simon watches, horrified, as Mal lifts his own hand to cover hers.

Self preservation spins Simon away. The sound of his own harsh breathing finally penetrates the  
miasma of shock and he finds he is back in the infirmary. Floundering in the harsh fluorescent light.   
Denial shattering. Emotions tumbling free.

His whole life, Simon has been absolutely sure of his love for only one person. He wanted to love his  
parents, they just weren't really _there_ to be loved. The awkward, strained feelings he had for them  
were based in obligation. They didn't need Simon. He's not even sure they wanted him - beyond the  
cachet having a bright, high achieving son brought them. They didn't even really seem to love each  
other. Prestige, reputation, position - that was what counted. And somehow they had each managed to  
find the perfect partner to secure those goals.

Loving River though - that wasn't a choice. As much a part of life as the flow of air in and out of  
Simon's lungs. He can't remember a time before he loved her. Maybe his existence didn't really start  
until she was there -  his precious sister who loved him back fiercely, who needed him, and infuriated  
him, and made him laugh, and knew how he felt. This was what love meant. For the last two years this  
has been all that mattered. Loving River. Finding her. Fixing her.

But now, it isn't enough. Simon wants more. Was starting to believe in the possibility of more. Was  
starting to admit that maybe his feelings for Mal should be called something a bit more serious than …  
attraction, affection, infatuation …

Simon groans. What a wonderful time to realise all this. He really is in the top three percent for  
_something_. Tian a knows what. Because now it has all gone to hell in a hand-basket. And what was  
Simon t_hinking_. He knew how much Mal wanted Inara from the second he saw them together.  
Flirting and snapping and generally circling around each other like skittish… what? Skittish idiots,  
that's what. Did he really believe any of that was going to go away? Even if Inara leaves, what will that  
prove? Mal might stay with Simon out of loneliness, habit… Could he live with that?

No. _Yes_. Maybe.

Does it matter what Simon believes? If Mal walked in here right now and wanted Simon again, could  
he say no? The desperate ache inside is overwhelming. Simon craves Mal's touch. He doesn't care  
about prestige, reputation… dignity. Not at this moment. Maybe not ever again. So much else has been  
stripped away, Simon isn't sure who he even is. Serenity's doctor, River's brother, _Mal's lover_.  
What will be left if he has to give up one more thing?

And then Mal appears before Simon's dazed eyes. His disbelief is heightened by the surreal way in  
which Mal silently backs Simon up against the wall and kisses him. Gently at first; persuasive. Simon  
wants to tell him to stop but he can't make himself speak.

_None of it matters_.

His chest hurts too much, aching with doubt and self-recrimination.

_Not really_.

What would he say anyway?

_I gave up everything for River_.

What is there to say, when life always falls apart when he least expects it.

_I'd do it again. In an instant. Throw it all  away_.

Mal is kissing harder now, tongue forcing its way into Simon's mouth, one leg sliding in between  
Simon's.

_Was it so very wrong of me to want something for myself?_

A moan rumbles in Mal's throat and Simon wishes he would speak; say the words Simon can't.

_To want someone._

Say 'Simon'.

_To want..._

Say 'mine'.

_Except I never had him._

Say…

_Second choice._

Simon pushes back hard on Mal's shoulders, breaking the kiss, forcing him away.

_Was it so very wrong?_

Mal is breathing hard, forehead wrinkled in confusion as he reads refusal plainly on Simon's face.

"But I want you," Mal groans desperately.

The slight shake of Simon's head is almost involuntary.

"But you want me," Mal insists, pressing his thigh against Simon's undeniable erection.

"I always want you," Simon admits hoarsely, watching Mal's chest rise and fall. Simon swallows hard,  
bracing himself against his next words. "But that doesn't mean that you get to have me."

Mal's hands drop and he takes a half step back. Simon bites his lip, raises his head to meet Mal's eyes.  
He may as well say it now. Smashed is smashed.

"I'm not a consolation prize."

Mal's expression hardens rapidly. Nothing there but icy cold anger. Simon steels himself to prevent his  
gaze from faltering. Mal breaks eye contact first, scrambling backwards in his haste to put distance  
between them.

"Didn't mean to importune you, Doctor. Won't happen again." Quick strides carry him away.

Absence of Mal. Weight settles in a crushing band around Simon's torso. He slides down helplessly to  
the floor, arms clutching his own ribs in a futile attempt to support his shallow breaths. For the first  
time ever, Simon understands where the expression 'broken hearted' comes from. If a patient described  
these symptoms, Simon would suspect myocardial infarction.

Distantly, Simon becomes aware of another presence. River. Sliding her arms around his shoulders.  
Warmth and life spilling from the touch of her skin.

"River." Almost a sob on Simon's lips.

"Right here. Just breathe."

 

~

 

Simon avoids dinner, telling River he has a headache and isn't hungry, just wants to sleep. She rolls her  
eyes and he is not surprised when she returns carrying a tray of food. He wasn't expecting Kaylee to  
follow her in with even more sustenance.

"Thought we'd eat here with you," Kaylee chirps, glowing with perfect health and spirits. "Cosier that  
way. 'Sides, I owe you for the doctorin' an' the loan of your room."

"Did you leave any for the others?" Simon asks bemusedly.

"We cooked," River giggles. "Ours to bestow."

"River cooked?" Simon's smile feels almost painfully unfamiliar.

"She told me what was in the tins with no labels, so I couldn't have done it without her." Kaylee beams  
at River, setting her tray down on the table. "Scoot up Simon, plenty of room."

Simon obliges, warmed by their care and suddenly realising he doesn't want to be left alone after all.

"He's totally miserable without you, you know," Kaylee confides after Simon has managed to clear  
most of his plate.

"I'm not sure that it's me he'd be miserable without," Simon replies sadly.

"You mean 'Nara?" Kaylee flushes a little, glancing at River out of the corner of her eye as she  
continues, "don't hold that against him, 'Nara has a way of tangling up people's feelings. You'll soon  
set him straight."

"Or not so straight," River giggles, lifting Kaylee's palm to plant a kiss on it. Kaylee's smile takes on a  
heat that Simon does _not _want to witness. He changes the subject loudly and is amazed to find that  
he laughs several times before they all call it a night.

Simon bites his tongue to keep from enquiring exactly where River will be sleeping, as she and Kaylee  
depart arm-in-arm. In a couple of months River will be eighteen, and he knows she'll be insufferable  
about reminding him of that fact if he doesn't let her have some freedom.

 

~

 

Jayne accosts Simon on his way to the dining room the next morning.

"Is it true?" he wants to know.

Simon stifles his desire to snap 'None of your business!', until he can at least work out what Jayne is  
reffering to.

"I thought Zoe was yanking m'chain until Book backed her. Never seen the Preacher tell a whopper  
before."

"What are you talking about Jayne?" Simon continues down the corridor, hoping his meager store of  
energy will outlast this interrogation.

"Did I really puke my guts up? Cos if'n I did, what fairy godmother waved her magic wand to make it  
all disappear?"

Simon stops short and gives Jayne an appraising look. "Guess that makes you the ugly stepsister."

"Huh?"

"I took care of it Jayne. It was… unsanitary, to leave it."

Jayne's eyes widen in horror and Simon tries to head him off before he strains something. "You can  
thank me by forgetting the whole thing ever happened, and never speaking of it again."

Simon's hope that Jayne would take his words to heart is dashed when Jayne catches up to him in the  
kitchen. Jayne doesn't look at him as he scuffs one boot back and forth along the ground.

"You didn't hafta do that Doc."

Simon kicks himself for not denying all knowledge.

"It's no big deal Jayne. Just forget it."

"No really." Jayne looks truly troubled, his face creased into unaccustomed thoughtfulness. Simon  
decides to ignore him. He doesn't want to have this conversation. Not when Mal is sitting just two feet  
away, brooding quietly into his coffee, seemingly unaware of Simon's contemplation.

Jayne brightens a little as some connection is made in his brain. "Hell, Doc, if I'da known that having a  
gun held to your head would turn you into a maid, I'da done it myself a long time ago." Jayne is  
grinning, pleased as punch that he has figured it out.

"Gun?" Mal's head snaps up, his face draining rapidly of colour. Simon tries to quell the sharp twisting  
sensation that sparks deep in his chest.

"Yeah, you know, that hundan, what was his name? Marcus? Lucas? Something."

Mal's glare is fixed unwaveringly on Simon now, his lips thin, voice tightly controlled when he speaks.  
"An' you didn't see fit to mention this because?"

_Just anger then_. Bitter disappointment drowns the brief, bright flare that had illuminated the misery  
residing in Simon. He tastes it, metallic on his tongue, sharpening his reply.

"You know how it is, Captain. Crew do tend to get shot on a regular basis. Nothing happened that  
seemed particularly newsworthy."

Mal's finger's clench whitely on his mug. He thrusts it away from himself, ignoring the liquid that  
sloshes onto the table as he strides from the kitchen.

"Lover's spat?" Jayne asks with a lascivious sneer.

"Shut up Jayne," Simon answers automatically.

 

~

 

Simon jumps as Mal appears in the doorway to the infirmary. He wishes he'd stop doing that. If Mal  
isn't going to talk to him, why can't he just leave Simon alone?

"We need to talk." Mal looks like he means business.

Oh. Simon feels his heart beating, slow and heavy.

"I don't have anything to say."

Mal takes three long strides, stopping a scant few inches away, looking directly into Simon's eyes.  
"Well then maybe you need to listen."

"If you insist." Simon doesn't want to make this easier for Mal. It hurts too much.

He follows Mal back to his bunk, trying to keep his feelings as grey and flat as the metal decking he  
stares at on the way. Once there Mal paces for precisely the length of time it takes for Simon to decide  
to leave. Mal launches into speech just before Simon can put thought into action.

"When Nandi died I decided that life is too short.  I tried to tell Inara how I felt. She didn't exactly let  
me say it… but there was a moment. She knew what I meant." Mal looks right at Simon then. "She  
turned me down."

Simon feels rage boil up within him, realises from the sudden sharp pain in each palm that he has  
clenched his fists bruisingly hard. He doesn't want to hear this. This isn't helping. Not one bit.

"Whoa, let me finish!" Mal holds both hands up in placation. "You're lookin' a mite scary there Simon.  
Let me tell you the rest before you take a swing at least."

Simon can't speak but forces himself to take a couple of even breaths, dropping his shoulders a little  
from where they have climbed up next to his ears.

"The other day, in Inara's shuttle, there was another moment. I didn't let her say it and truth is she  
maybe wouldn't have any ways; she looked guilty enough just thinkin' it. But I  knew what she wanted  
and she knew I knew."

"Could you get to the point Mal?" Simon grits out. Mal is looking at him again. Really looking. Simon  
hadn't realised how much he missed having Mal's eyes on him

"I thought for a long time I didn't deserve any more chances at happiness. And maybe now I've  
screwed this up too badly. Inara and I don't fit together Simon. You and I do. I want to see if we can  
keep gettin' some happiness for ourselves."

"What did you say? Again?" Simon asks faintly.

"Inara can't have me no more. Stay or go, she missed her chance. Everybody's missed their chance  
because the only one I want is you." Mal has stopped pacing.

"Oh." Simon feels his hands relax a little but he can't quite believe it. Knows that the doubt must be  
written all over his face from the way Mal is frowning at him.

"This _is _what you want, Simon? You do want to be with me, don't you?" Mal's voice is husky -  
laden with emotion.

"I…" Simon squeezes his eyes shut. He can't keep up. His head is spinning and he wants to go lay  
down somewhere cool and try to take everything in. Make sure he has all the facts.

"'Cause I've been pretty clear about how I feel about you but you ain't never- "

"Clear?" Simon protests. If Mal was clear then why have the last few days been murky hell?

"I told you how I felt about you the first night we spent together." Mal manages to keep most of the  
snap out of his voice, but it is there in the whitening of his knuckles, the tension in his jaw.

"I beg to differ." Simon can't help withdrawing behind civility. If Mal punches him, he'll have an  
answer, of sorts.

Mal unclenches his fists and runs a hand through his hair, yanking a little with a muttered curse. "Are  
you just tryin' to get me to say it again?"

"You said I should stay on Serenity because of love, Mal," Simon clarifies. "You never said that you…  
that that was how _you_ felt."

"You ain't never said even half that much!" Mal protests exasperatedly.

"No, I haven't," Simon says softly. Even now, he isn't sure what he feels.

Mal rocks back a little on his heels, surprise quickly smoothed to a bland mask. The room suddenly  
feels huge to Simon. Mal is so far away and, really, all Simon wants is to feel the touch of Mal's hands  
on his skin. Suddenly he longs for that more than anything in the 'verse, and has no idea at all of how  
to make it happen.

"Mal…" Simon can't say anything beyond that. His voice catches and his hands are trembling - he's  
going to fall apart any second now.

Mal closes the gap, arms wrapping around Simon, warmth enveloping him. Lips seeking each other.  
Tongues entwining. Everything else falling away to leave Mal's heartbeat, strong and steady against his  
own.

Mal pulls back to whisper harshly, "we can just take it slow. I understand if you don't trust me too  
good at the moment."

 "Fuck slow," Simon rasps. One corner of Mal's mouth lifts a little but he doesn't look convinced.  
"I've missed you," Simon insists, punctuating the words with a bruising grip on Mal's shoulders,  
resisting his subtle withdrawal.

Mal shakes his head. "After how I behaved in your room the other night… I can't even trust myself."

And now, at last, it all makes sense to Simon. The circuitous path that has led him here, to this room,  
with this man.

He steps back, smiling reassuringly, shaking his head just once when Mal would have spoken. Quickly  
Simon strips away his own clothing, watching the surprise in Mal's face change to memerised lust.

Naked, Simon moves back, holding Mal's gaze as he lies down on the bed, crossing his wrists above  
his head.

"So trust me then."

Mal groans, raw and low in his throat, "Simon, oh God."

He is on the bed in an instant, weight pressing Simon into the mattress, hands twining in his hair, lips  
bruising in an intense kiss.

"Simon," Mal moans again and again, moving his attention down to Simon's neck, sucking hard along  
a collarbone as Simon arches up into his body.

"Clothes Mal," Simon urges. He is rewarded by Mal undressing shakily, trying all the while to  
maintain as much contact with Simon as possible. At last Mal presses the length of his body against  
Simon, their erections leaking and rubbing together in the slick heat between them.

"Can't wait Mal; lube."

Mal looks dazed but he obediently sits up, retrieves the tube and fumbles it open, squirting gel over his  
hands. "Want you," he gasps.

"Me too Mal, hurry," Simon answers, eyes rolling closed as he anticipates Mal's hands on him. He  
feels Mal's weight shift, and breathes slowly, to bring himself back from the edge.

The feel of Mal's grip, slippery on his erection shocks a series of stuttering indrawn breaths from his  
lungs as Simon opens his eyes wide, then wider again, to the sight of Mal lowering himself onto  
Simon.

 "Nghhh," is the only sound Simon makes when he can finally exhale again. Tight heat stunning his  
faculties into total surrender, as Mal settles flush against him.

"I like you like this," Mal smiles as he pulls Simon's arms free from their forgotten cross above  
Simon's head.

"Huh?" Simon asks. Mal gathers his hands, kisses his knuckles and then laces their fingers together  
before answering.

"All inarticulate."

Simon tries to muster a retort, but his thoughts turn to mush as Mal slowly raises himself, drawing  
incredible friction along Simon's rock hard length.

"Nggghhaaa," Simon pants. Mal laughs and lifts Simon's arms away from his chest, until he can push  
Simon's elbows down onto the bed, keeping their fingers entwined.

"Rendered that way," Mal pushes down, agonisingly slowly, "by me."

There is more than one way to communicate, Simon decides, as Mal presses against Simon's palms for  
the leverage to elevate himself again, still keeping to his excruciatingly slow rhythm.

Simon bends his knees to plant his feet on the bed. Mal's next downward movement is met by Simon's  
demanding upward thrust, elbows and feet braced firmly. Mal shudders and responds by speeding up,  
calling Simon's name hoarsely, as he accelerates, until they are both breathless and slippery with sweat.  
Somewhere along the line, Simon retains the presence of mind to reach for Mal's erection, flicking his  
thumb across the head on each upstroke, holding on until the last moment, lungs bursting, balls  
straining, as Mal finally spurts hotly against his palm. Simon bellows as he comes; days of unbearable  
tension exploding in a single, glorious release.

 

~

 

Neither of them is willing to move afterwards. The best they can manage is rolling onto their sides,  
limbs sprawled together.

Mal's voice is heavy with incipient sleep when he breaks the silence.

"What I said, 'bout you staying on Serenity, I do you know." Mal brushes his fingers against Simon's  
cheek and Simon knows without opening his eyes that Mal is smiling at him right now.

"I do feel that for you, I mean."

"Me too Mal. Me too."

 

  



End file.
